The Alliance
by Skoilr
Summary: What happens when a new threat attacks Earth in hopes of wipping mankind off the planet? What happens when relationships get in the way? What happens when the Avengers take in someone more powerful than themselves? What happens when Heros and Villians unite to fight a common enemy?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Your target is a semi-submersible oil platform off the coast of Manhattan, approximately eighteen miles off-shore."

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"You are to get in and get out as swiftly as possible. As far as we know there are few survivors if not none at this point."

In association with Truine Traveler

"The enemy is unknown, but few sightings have been made giving us an idea of who it is, a security drone was sent in before you and picked up images of A.I.M. personel aboard the rig."

A terrific new installment to the Marvel Universe

"We are still unsure what they seem to be after. But we have confirmed that they are making their way to the lower facilities. Stop them! It is imperative that they do not retrieve the technology stored aboard."

Dark figures shifted around the hold of the now rattling jet, only to make minor adjustments to their combat gear. Lights flickered as subsidiary turbulent action shuddered the vessel, screaming wind pierced the silence as the jet settled. The occupants held onto avaliable handholds as the plane entered a steep dive. Their stomachs lurched and one soldier moaned as they left the decent and returned to a horizontal position. At that moment an announcment flashed through the intercom.  
"Sorry for the turbulence, the wind is really kicking us around. The target is about several minutes away so make any nessecary preparations." The intercom buzzed offline.  
The men and women in the hold began to move around as they prepared their weapons and checked their recruits adorned themselves with vests and extra weapons, but they weren't acting like recruits-they were acting like soldiers. Movement, however, slowed as one soldier looked out the window, into the night sky, hazy clouds whizzed by until the oil rig came into view.  
"I can see the oil platform." He said, pointing.  
The others nodded in confirmanation even as the pilot came over the intercom once agian, informing of their destination's distance. The soldiers were impatient, having been on the jet for an hour, and were eager to leave the confines of the plane. So they began making their way to the cargo compartment where they would make the drop.  
Three hours earlier they were back at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base in New York training in the gym when they were all called to prepare for leave. They thought, at first, that it was procaution, or perhaps, training. That is until Nick Fury himself entered the armory as they were doning their gear, and informed them of a top secret mission which involved words like 'High Security Alert' and 'A.I.M.'. So they were teamed with two of S.H.I.E.L.D.s most prized assassins and given orders to retrieve a technology hidden on the oil rig, which happened to be a disguised S.H.I.E.L.D. research labratory.  
A man in black, flexible, sleeveless combat armor stepped out of the contingent of soldiers and stationed himself at the cargo door, he turned and meet the eyes of the soldiers. They quickly silenced, seeing this particular man awaiting their attention.  
"This is going to be a 'drop in, get out' mission understood!" He said, recieving a chorus of 'Yes Sirs'. "We're going to make this quick, stick with the plan and kill as many A.I.M. personel as you can. Watch each others' backs and keep your senses open. Ready!"  
His men shouted their response as the plane rotated and came to a halt, entering hover mode. The pilot spoke once more.  
"We are directly above western heli-pad, no one has seen us, thank God, but i was able to make out a few soldiers on the other platform, they've raised the draw bridge so it might be tough getting across without arousing suspicion."  
The man at the cargo door pulled out a compound bow and snapped it open with a fling of his wrist. "Lets head out!"

The man watched his recruits stand tall and readied themselves to fight, he felt a shot of pride. He had, after all, taught these soldiers much of what they knew. Well, he mainly instructed them if he saw faults in their teachings while an actually seargent trained them. But he still loved to see young recruits use what they knew and put it to good use. He loved that he got the opportunity to prepare them for the most dangerous part of their job.  
As the cargo door lowered on unseen hinges, the man yelled one last statement to his men. "All right, recruits...training is over. Those guys were heading for are the real thing and will not hesitate to put a bullet in you. Watch your sixes." He waited till the door was fully opened before he said. "Let's take out some trash."  
They readied their ziplines and, pulling on them to confirm that they would hold, slid down to the heli-pad below. Once on solid ground they unhooked the lines and quickly scouted the area, awaiting the rest of their team to land. The plane cargo door raised and it, slowly but gaining speed, rentered the air. Clint focused on the area surrounding them, even as Natasha landed next to him, her sleek form quickly following Clint as he led his team behind a rusty containment unit. He looked to Natasha and smiled, they had grown a strong relationship since the attack on New York nearly two years ago.  
She returned in kind and together they ran down a walkway, staying hidden behind various storage units and machinery. As they approached a set of stairs, which would take them lower and eventually to the draw bridge, several enemy soldiers, three to be exact, exited a building.  
Clint jumped back behind cover, the rest of his team doing the same. He pressed a button on his bow and an almost silent squeel came from his quiver as it choose the specified arrow tip. He looked to Natasha and she nodded slightly, then she rolled to the other side f the stairwell and waited for Clint.  
He signaled his team to stay put then jumped out from behind his cover, pulled the arrow from his quiver, nocked it, aimed, and released. He didn't wait to see it find its target, he was on the move before it traveled four feet. There was a railing above the stairs that he was running for.  
He jumped for it and grabbed onto the gratting and pulled himself up onto it. Seconds later he heard a man crumple to the floor followed by shouts of alarm from the other soldiers. He rolled across the railing and jumped over the other side, directly above the enemy. But they saw him and raised their guns.

The Alliance

Author's note: Hope you all like this chapter. just started a story idea for the Avengers and hope it'll go well with the community. Chapters will progressively get longer as time goes on. Leave a review and let me know what you thank so far. Enjoy and don'lt forget to review. Have a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Clint had no time to waste, actually he had no time at all as he fell to the two assault rifles aimed at his heart. He had to think fast and percisely, but, of course, this was an easy task for him, he had done this many, many times. He quickly scanned the area around the enemy soldiers, absorbing every detail down to the last crack in a containment unit. Then he memorized the setting, where every obstacle was placed and all hazards that could possibly cause him to faulter. Then he examined the soldiers, each in the custom A.I.M. hazrdous suits, along with an assortment of concealed weapons and other nessecities.  
Now that he had created a mental map of the area he focused on his attack methods, he could come in with a kick to the nearest man's left leg, therefore bringing his opponent to his knees, and then dodge the oncoming attack, cause he knew there would be enough time for the other opponent to come to a conclusion. And then improvise after that. Within four seconds he had done all this and now he would put it to use.  
He prepared as he neared the ground, not expecting the enemy to fire until he landed. But there was no time for that, for he had extended his left leg, locking it in position, and landed upon the nearest soldier's left leg, hearing a satisfying crack as the man's leg drove inward. His body collapsed and bone protruded from the enemy's leg as he screamed in pain.  
Clint didn't take noticed, except to congradulate himself, because the next man drew near, now weilding a five inch dagger instead of his rifle. He jumped to the ground, holding his bow behind him, and rolled over the grated floor, even as the armed man slashed at the spot Clint's chest was seconds earlier.  
Now to the man's backside, the assassin twisted his body, as he came up to his feet, and held his bow to the A.I.M. soldier, now turning to meet his opponent. As the soldier completed his revolution, Clint had put an arrow in the man's neck, drawing a flowing river of blood. The man fell on his face.  
He was satisfied with his handi-work and acknowledged that Natasha had taken care of the other soldier. He nodded to his fellow assassin and then pulled his arrow free of the man's mangled neck, blood dripping through the grated floor. He checked to see if his arrow was damaged, at a glance some would say that the arrow was fine, but upon closer inspection it would be found that the arrow had a slight bend and would work improperly the next time it was used. However, the tip was unharmed and he removed it from the shaft and returned it to his quiver.  
He threw the shaft over the railing and into the rough ocean waters below. He had also noticed that the wind was picking up in speed, blowing Natasha's hair in wild disarray. In the distance Clint could see a mass of black, rolling clouds, a curtain of rain pouring below it.  
He looked to Natasha. "We have to hurry before that storm gets close or else the jet wont be able to retrive us."  
She nodded, stepping closer to Clint.  
His team of soldiers were waiting patiently by their hiding place, their weapons ready to fire if need be. Clint smirked slightly at the sight of his team, ready for action, even if they were afraid, they hid it well.  
"We need to get to the other side of the oil rig. First we have to find the control room and get the draw bridge down." Clint said, all the while formulating a plan.  
Natasha nodded, however, her notion signaled that she disagreed. "But if we lower the bridge, then we'll alert A.I. our presence. We should find another way across, though at the moment i can't think of one."  
Clint shrugged. "Yeah, i've thought of that." He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he tried to think.  
In his mind a display of the entire oil rig appeared, the platform as a whole was divided in half, connected by two draw-bridges, one on the western side and one on the eastern. Two control rooms were placed, on either side, between each bridge. They could reach the control room on their side of the oil platform quickly, but as Natasha had said, A.I.M. would now they were here.  
He opened his eyes, slightly stunned by the brightness of the rising sun. He made last minute thoughts then said. "We can lower the eastern bridge, thus directing A.I.M.'s attention there. Then we'll sneak across the western side." He pointed to the west, up at a large pipe that protruded from the sea and arched over the gap between the platforms. Next to it was a relatively large crane, extending over the side as if awaiting more shipments of equipment. "We can use that crane to get some height, then grapple across the using the pipe to hide behind. Then we can get to the testing facilities where A.I.M. was reported trying to breach."  
Natasha examined the pipes and the crane, then thought over the plan. "It might work. But it would be a task trying to get everyone from the control room then up onto the crane."  
"I'll activate the bridge while you take the team to the crane and prepare to get across. Then i'll meet with you all after." He said, almost instantly. Natasha looked to her fellow soldiers behind her. "We'll meet you on the other side."  
Clint gave Natasha a gentle smile then strode off towards the control room. Strapping his bow to his quiver as he went. Behind him Natasha informed her team of their plan. Clint ran silently along the grated walkways, rounding every corner with caution, ready to fight if need be.

Author's note: Sorry if this was a short chapter. But im tired and quickly came up with this on the fly. Hope you've enjoyed and leave a review if you have. Have a good day. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Clint examined the outer boundries of the control room from his perch atop a fire escape that ran along the outside of a small building. Two A.I.M. soldiers, frozen by their orders, stood gaurd in front of the door like stone statues, never moving. E control room was a simple structure, a concrete wall wrapped half of the building while the other half, facing the opposite side of the oil rig, was made of glass. The roof was a reenforced steel plate that covered the inside from nature's elements.  
From his vantage point he could peer through one side of the glass wall, making out about five shadowy figures within, moving around calmly, unaware of what was to come.  
Clint made a sour expression, the gaurds were going to make getting in there some what difficult, erasing them from the equation was the assassins main goal at that moment.  
If he attacked some one inside would possibly see and warn the whole operation. But he couldn't just walk up there with out doing a bit of damage, it just wouldn't work. Plus there was no other way into the control room except through the gaurded door.  
A gentle breeze drew his attention to the oncoming swell of black clouds, thick curtains of rain beating the ocean to a furious froth. The sun rose to the east, turing the sky to the color of an orange with a mixture of pink. The sky gradually shifted to a dark blue then was blocked by the storm in the distance.  
He had to hurry. His soft blue eyes drifted to the west, at the crane. At a glance no one could've seen the line of dark figures climbing to the top, and soon they would be hidden behind the large, rusty pipe.  
"Screw it. " Clint said to himself, he had always tried to go the reposing way when he wasn't supposed to make his presence know. But not today. He jumped to the railing and balanced on it, leaning forward as he did. He then fell to a fire escape below him, landing on the railing as if it were a mile wide, he nonchalantly lowered until he was crouched, his knees barely touching his chest. He slid the command key on his bow and his quiver selected the specified arrow. He pulled it out and slowly put it in it's place, pulling the wire back as far as he could, putting tension on the string. He aimed the bow, staring down the shaft of the arrow and directly at the nearest soldier's chest.  
He let go and watched as the arrow flew through the air and found it's place in the soldier's heart, piercing the armor that was allegedly protecting him. The corpse's companion rushed to his side even as the trick arrow shot a smaller one into the man's uncovered neck, releasing a chemical that would paralyze and eventually kill the man.  
Clint lept into the air, spun three times as he fell and landed lightly on his feet as the to soldiers fell to his left and right. He stood as the shock in his feet subsided. He left then dragged the bodies out of sight, dumping them over the edge into the ocean.  
He looked around then walked around to the door, silently pushing it open and entering quickly. The room was dark and he waited for his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. The room extended forward over the edge of the platform a couple of feet. Computers and flashing monitors made up much of the space with some tables here and there. Hundreds of multi-colored wires were strung around like trash along the walls and hanging from the cieling. He looked out the window to see the draw bridges looming above the rest of the oil platform like giant sentinals, almost fifty feet high. He noticed that, right in front of him, were five soldiers, he dropped to the floor, suprised that they hadn't seen him. The enterance was raised slightly higher than the rest of the room, a set of stairs led down to the main level with a small decorative wall lining the stairs, giving him the perfect cover as he snuck down the steps.  
He heard laughing and conversation going on between the soldiers, and as he got closer he saw a table with a case of beer on it, three bottles left. He crawled past and leaned his back against the wall. He had to get to the control panel, but in such close quarters, he wouldn't be able to fight all the while keeping it low profile. Someone would hear.  
A muffled voice erupted from his left, he turned to see several S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists tied and gagged in the corner. He put his index figer over his lips and the scientists hushed. With one last glance over the wall, confirming it was safe to proceed, he made his way to the hostages, pulling out his knife.  
He stopped when a loud crash ruptured from behind him, he slowly turned his head to see that the table had fallen, broken beer bottles littered the floor and beer was puddled around the table.  
"Look what you did!" Shouted a voice, he held an impressive air of command in his tone, possibly the leader of this group. A smaller, less commandful voice replied. "But Carl pushed me."  
"I don't want to hear it! Give me a hundred push ups!" Said the commanding voice.  
"No make him do two hundred!" Interupted another voice, this one more playful than the last.  
Clint wasted no more time, if a soldier was being diciplined, then all the soldiers would make sure he got the full punishment. He cut the nearest scientists free and moved to the fourth as the rest pulled the cloth from their mouths.  
"I need to lower the eastern bridge, where is the control for it?" Clint asked, cutting the last hostage free and sheathing his knife.  
"Thank you for saving us, but...um the controls for the east bridge is in the front and center of the room, the right lever." Said the scientist he saved first, pointing to a double handle lever.  
Clint nodded his thanks then scooted across the floor, remaining hidden from the soldiers behind and above him.  
"Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen...come on faster." Shouted one soldier, pounding the floor with his palm.  
Clint continued, but bumped into a chair, causing it to slid across the floor, creating a scrapping sound that echoed throughout the room. The soldier seemed not to notice as their fellow did his push ups. He breathed out a sigh of relief, then slowly positioned his body into a crawl, the lever now a few feet in front of him.  
When he reached the lever he quietly raeched up, firmly grabbed the lever handle, and pulled down. It was impressively slow to move, as if it was pulling a great wieght.  
He heard distant sounds of cracking gears and metal grinding over metal. He peered out the window and saw the draw bridge's gradually decending. Underneath the extension was an assortment of spinning gears and pumping hydraulics, exhaust tubes spraying steam out of various parts of the bridge.  
He let a devilish grin part his lips as he thought of his predicament; in the middle of the Atlantic ocean on a secret base, for the agency he worked with, that was infested with their enemy. And here he was crouching on the floor all the while pulling down the lever that was under such great protection.  
He thought of how Natasha was doing with their team, he was sure that they were already on the other side by now, waiting for him. The thought of his fellow assassin brought a settling emotion on him. When the attack on New York by the Chitari two years ago ended they went their separate ways, all except him and Natasha. Ever since then they were together, and happy.  
He even asked her out on a date once, one that she accepted, he had been very nervous up until that moment. But he soon grew out of it as their relationship strenghtened. They were together. He only hoped it stayed that way, and if anything tried to keep him from her, he would tear them down with all he had.  
A sudden movement forced him to flash back to reality. The lever snapped iton place as it reached the limit of the control unit. The bridge outside was completely lowered. He released the lever and scooted back to the still-waiting scientists. "Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five!" Continued the drill sergant, screaming in the soldier's face.  
Clint walked past the scientists, signaling them to follow, they snuck past the soldiers and were able to exit without a problem. Once outside Clint turned to the scientists and asked. "Do any of you know where to find the communications room?" They all nodded. "Good, go there and try and contact Fury and notify him of the current problem." They nodded agian and began to walk off. "Also tell him that Clint Barton is okay and so is his team."  
"Of course." Said one of the scientists, according to his name tag he was Steve. "Be careful." Then they were off. Clint smiled then turned toward the west and ran for the crane.

Natasha stood on the railing along the outside of the crane's operating cockpit. She and her team were patiently waiting for the bridge to lower before they made their way across.  
The zip-line was taken care of, and held strong. All they had to do was wait now. Natasha wondered what her fellow assassin was up to. It had been about thirty minutes since they got on top of the crane, activity was boiling now on the other side of the oil rig as the storm drew near. Soldiers were preparing for the wrath of this giant of a storm.  
Already the breeze was strong, blowing with an incredible force that nearly knocked them over the railing. It was sprinkling lightly, and in a couple minutes would come the unrelenting down pour. "Black Widow!" Shouted a soldier over the furious gale. "The bridge is lowering."  
She looked to the east and sure enough, the bridge was going down, and she could see A.I.M. forces heading in that direction. She stood and motioned for her team to do the same.  
"Let's get across now." She said, she let her troops et across first before she slid across the gap, below her was towering walls of water that crashed upon the oil rig's supports. The ground soon met her feet and she looked back, hoping to see Clint heading her way.  
"Do you hear that?" Said one of her soldiers. In the distance came hollow popping sounds, the sounds that Natasha knew all too well. Gunfire.

Author's note: So here is a longer chapter. Hope you've enjoyed the last two and, of course, this one. So if you're reading this that means you enjoyed this chapter enough to continue to the end and i thank those who have. I'll try to update soon for you all. Have a good day. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Clint looked up to the top of the crane from his current position at the base of the structure. He peered between the rusty, yellow, steel beams that criss-crossed the crane for support, he could make out the faint form of the zip-line, but couldn't see any of his troops. He grapsed the first rung of the ladder in front of him, and pulled up, climbing as quick as he could.  
The wind was harsh on him, a constant, aggrivating push that threatened to topple him off his handholds, which he gripped tightly, turning his knuckles white with the force of his grip.  
Seagulls screeched and fluttered away from their perch as Clint moved by them, disrupting their rest. One even attacked him, trying to peck him on the head, but with one powerful swat he scared it away.  
The howl of the wind carried with it many sounds, one of which he could make out as shouting. And then...was that gunfire.  
He stopped climbing and looked to the east, were the commotion originated. He could see flashes of light, smoke, and shadows swirling around on the oil rig across the gap. Someone was launching rockets towards a certain point, reciving a large explosion and a cloud of, thick smoke.  
His mind instantly flashed to Natasha and his troops, are they the ones being attacked? Did they get across and then get ambushed? And then a more, unsettling, thought came to mind. Did the scientists i saved get attack while trying to establish connection with director Fury?  
He couldn't live normally knowing that he put innocent men in danger, knowing that he sent them to their deaths. He relished the idea, shacking it from his mind as he returned climbing. When he was half-way up the ladder, several objects impacted the cross beams, creating a sharp ring as they ricocheted into the air. He jolted from the encounter and nearly lost his hold on the rungs. He looked down and saw a group of A.I.M. soldiers at the base of the crane, shooting up with their assault rifles.  
At least the A.I.M. agents can't aim. Clint thought, pun intended.  
He snikered then quickened his pace before one of them got lucky and shot him in the leg or some other area of his body. He stumbled with his arms trying to grasp the rungs quickly.  
Suddenly a bullet hit the rung his right hand was wrapped around, and instantly his reflexes took over, pulling his arm away before he even thought to. He shouted as he lost his grip, and remained there, hanging by his left arm.  
"Come on!" He yelled to the soldiers below him.  
They only laughed in response and continued firing.  
The assassin reached back up and pulled himself to the next rung. He didn't think about what to do, he only followed his instincts, for they had served him well in the past. He reacted only to the bullets, flowing through every scenario with ease and flexiblity.  
He thought he was going to make it, he didn't think of a reason not to. He knew he could easily dodge the ackwardly aimed bullets. He also knew that once he got to the top he could fire down upon the soldiers, and this boosted his speed.  
But when he saw a missle headed for the crane, he froze in place. In normal circumstances he would get as far from the projectile as he could. He also knew the best thing to do would be to continue moving, but as he saw that weapon headed for him, fear not only froze him in place, but also forced his body to betray himself. He felt a cold, death-like, shiver run down his spine, causing tremors to rattle his entire body.  
"Ah, crap..."  
The missle crashed into the lower part of the crane, bending and twisting the cross beams until, finally, the rocket exploded. Now the reaction wasn't what Clint expected.  
Smoke and fire billowed upward, blocking out the lower part of the oil platform, seeping through the criss-crossing beams like serpents. The entirety of the crane vibrated with an incredible force, causing steel beams to crack and plummet to the ground, disrupting the smoke as they decended. Eventually the black, oily vapors covered the clutching, huddled up form of Clint.  
The assassin coughed as he recovered from the attack, struggling to climb out of the smoke. Suddenly he felt the crane beginning to tilt towards the north, towards the opposite oil rig. The metal structure moaned and beams snapped as it tilted at a dramatic angle. Clint stopped climbing, and instead he stood and ran up the ,now, diagonal angled crane even as it continued to fall.  
A low thrumming moan erupted from the twisted metal as the crane completely toppled over and crashed onto the other oil platform, a sharp ding filling the air, even as Clint jumped away from the collapsing structure, pulling out his bow and a specific arrow, aimed, and shot it towards some smaller pipes that ran along the edge of a building.  
The grappling arrow sunk into the pipes and Clint swung from the crane to a safer part of the platform. He let out a deep breath and looked behind him at the heap of metal beams piled in a burning and smoking mix, crackling and popping as red hot metal melted from the intense heat.  
Clint released his hold on the grappling wire and looked around his surroundings. This particular oil rig also had it's own control room, which was off to his right, obscured by some transport pipes that protruded from the ground and up sides of buildings.  
Smoke stacks beamed up from various rooftops, emitting clouds of black vapor that mixed with the already smokey sky. This was the more industrialized oil rig of the two, having two cranes to the east and a factory-like building, in appearence, along the northern platform.  
No soldiers were in sight, a fact he attributed to the lowering of the eastern draw bridge, drawing A.I.M.'s attention there, away from him. He also noticed that Natasha and their troops weren't in sight.  
All this and he didn't seem to hear the sounds of a fight close by. But they were not the sounds he had grown accustomed to. Of course there was gunfire, shouting, men screaming as they got hit. But also a low thrum as if some engine were blasting to life, but quickly shifted into a streaking pulse that would, after hearing it, bring a flash of light from that direction.  
Clint had that ackward moment when you knew what something was, but couldn't remember what it was. He arched an eyebrow as the sound entered the atmosphere agian and agian.  
"Oh, no! This better not be..." Clint began to say, but stopped when he rounded the building that was previously blocking the action. Several soldiers dropped dead and three took off running in surrender as a mechanical suited man blasted a hole in another enemy troop.  
"Stark! What are you doing here?" Clint yelled.  
The genius billionare, playboy philanthropist turned to the assassin, his mask flipping up, exposing his face. "Oh come on. At least look a little suprised to see me."  
Clint shrugged. "Fury didn't say you were coming." Actually the director had given clear orders that Stark was not to tag along, and even spelled out his orders to the well known Iron man.  
Stark huffed a comical laugh. "I only came cause i heard that there was a sale on foot cream." The assassin made a confused face. "And trust me, these iron boots don't help at all."  
Clint pushed on forward, coming to the conclusion that it was best to leave Tony be. However, as he left, Tony followed.  
"So where's Romanoff, I heard she was here too?" Tony looked around as if searching for the female assassin.  
Clint said nothing, and only searched himself, for his partner.  
Stark wrinkled his nose at the sudden silence. "So... how you been?" No reply. "I heard that you have taken command of your own group since last we met." Clint nodded, glad his efforts went unoticed. "Yep, twelve recruits."  
That backfired on Clint, however, and only fueled Stark's converstation. "What about Natalie, how is she?"  
Clint shook his head, he never knew how his partner felt, unless she shared with him her emotions, which happened rarely, but more often now that they were together.  
"Are ya'll getting serious?" Stark knew better than to push Clint past his boundries, but he didn't care.  
Clint froze and quickly turned to meet the smirking face of Tony. "Listen Stark, we may be partners in war, but we are not friends, and you will do well to remember that. We don't share personal information, but then agian, why should you worry."  
Tony remained standing as the assassin continued walking. Clint felt good, hoping his words stung the billionare with a valor. But...  
"No but seriously," Continued Tony, "The other day I saw you holding her hand."  
Clint bellowed an aggrivated sigh.  
-

"Natasha!" Clint whispered loudly upon seeing his fellow assassin scurrying along the top of a rooftop. She looked to him, finding his well hidden form easily, and jumped from the roof and landed to his side.  
"Are you alright?" She asked Clint, then noticed Tony, who was giving her a mischievous smile.  
"Hey Romanoff, how you been?" He said, his mask clamping over his face.  
She gave him a warning by shacking her head.  
"Watch out." At that moment several A.I.M. soldiers crossed his line of fire. A couple of shots from his repulsors and the soldiers were down. He recieved a pair of arched eyebrows as his mask flipped up agian.  
"What? So what if i can forsee the future." Tony joked. "Okay, fine. J.A.R.V.I.S. hacked into the sercurity cameras. I can see most of the oil rig and," he paused as if the silence would highten his statement. "Every A.I.M. soldier."  
"Wow." Said Clint, sarcastically sounding impressed.  
Natasha shook her head. "Then can you see the main A.I.M. force?"  
Tony nodded triumphantly.  
"Where are they." Clint interrupted, catching onto Natasha's notion.  
Tony paused. "They're getting onto a helicopter with what looks like a large metal box."  
Both Clint and Natasha looked at each other, with worried expressions, their troops coming up behind them. "If they get to the air, we'll never recover that technology."  
Tony laughed and both assassins looked at him. "What?" They both asked.  
"I'll take care of them." Tony said, his mask clamping shut.

A/N: Yeah! Long chapter! And introducing Iron man. How'd you like his entrance? More Avengers incoming, I promise. So what did you think of this chapter, and if the plot seems to be moving slowly, then im sorry. But thats the only way I can write without it being two year old material. So... i hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and will continue to as the story progresses. Have a good day.  



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